


the wall you painted

by deeppoeticgirl



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, BUT VERY VAGUE, F/M, Vague smut at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 15:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeppoeticgirl/pseuds/deeppoeticgirl
Summary: /SasuSaku./ High school romances are not built to last. Or so he thinks. Delinquent!Sakura&Nerd!Sasuke AU. Oneshot.





	the wall you painted

It isn’t something of his habit to stay out this late. Lost in his studies as he often gets, Sasuke has always taken care to set up several alarms to help him keep track of time. He’s never liked to stick around the school grounds when it gets dark; though he knows they aren’t particularly unsafe, Sasuke never much feels like taking risks is ever worth the effort.

_(it wasn’t unheard of that some teens partied and partook in illicit drugs around here, after all.)_

Tonight, however, he seems to have forgotten to set the last one up—or, perhaps, has simply made the mistake of not properly swiping the button on his phone. He curses when he sees how late it’s gotten.

Pulling off the glasses from his nose, Sasuke rubs at his eyes and sighs as patiently as he can manage, drumming his fingers against the table. He could take the city bus as he usually does, but if he’s lucky, maybe if he texts Itachi, he will feel the need to come and pick him up; the buses run more rarely at this hour anyhow.

Putting away his books and laptop, Sasuke slips on his glasses again and takes his phone, sending a quick text to his brother before grabbing at his backpack to make his way out of the library. He shuts the lights as he usually does, reactivates the alarm as the principal has always asked, fetching the key that has been entrusted to him already three years ago. He isn’t sure he would have ever gotten the privilege if his best friend’s mother wasn’t the one who led this place.

As he is locking up the library doors, Sasuke’s phone chimes with a text tone. He pauses to check what his brother has replied.

_You’re not taking the bus at this time, little brother. I’ll be there in 15. Don’t wander away from the school._

“Now why would I do that?” he mutters to himself, shaking his head. Putting his phone away, he finishes up his task and readjusts his bag on his shoulder, turning towards the nearby benches. He freezes as he looks up.

Because there is a girl: standing there, dressed in plaids and blacks, adorning oddly colorful shoes—those of which match her equally colorful hair. She looks cute, strangely _fierce_ , and—

And she’s holding a can of spray paint.

_(more of which clearly lie in a bag to her feet, ready to be used.)_

Demanding words fly out of his mouth before he can help himself.

“What are you doing?”

The girl, apparently already aware of him judging by the way she doesn’t so much as flinch at his sudden question, merely turns to face him, popping the bubblegum he just now realizes she’s been chewing all along. His eyes almost widen as she smiles at him.

_(true. bright. and not… unkind.)_

It puzzles him.

“Art, _obviously_ ,” she declares, then, breaking him from his stupor. She vigorously shakes the can, evidently readying to use it, and Sasuke almost goes to step back—but the girl only shifts on the heels of her feet to add a thick layer of unbelievably bright green paint exactly where she feels it is needed. “These walls need some life.”

She is painting a face, he thinks, but Sasuke isn’t quite sure when the dark makes it hard so see.

“You—” His mouth snaps shut. Because he truly doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to make of this strange enigma of a girl with punk-like looks and warm smiles.

So he says the only thing his brain can make sense of, which is: “You’re vandalizing. I should report you.”

She turns to him again, raising a delicate little pink brow which he can barely see under the dimly lit school lamppost that illuminates her. He feels the odd urge to swallow as he sees those lips of hers quirk again, seemingly much more amused than before.

The laugh she gives him has his heart stuttering.

“Well when you do, tell them to look for Sakura Haruno!”

Sasuke doesn’t know how to explain the sense of awe that fills him, but he doesn’t get to dwell on it either as he sees his brother’s car pull up by the entrance of the school driveway. With nothing but a glance and a simple frown, he takes his leave.

“Who was that?” Itachi asks, when he opens the back door to shove his bag in.

“Don’t know,” Sasuke answers as he settles in the passenger seat. But he still peers back at her anyway.

The girl—Sakura—is waving him goodbye.

.

.

There are people crowding her so-called painting when he arrives to school the next morning. Declarations of both admiration and indignation are found, but Sasuke holds no care for them; he only takes in her work as he could not last night, mouth parting in soft surprise.

It was a face, he thinks, running his gaze attentively over the breathtaking splashes of color, bright and dark alike. The face of a young girl, sweet and pure, dreaming of better things—but decisively made of broken hopes.

His brows furrow deeply. The first set of bells ring.

Sasuke doesn’t report her.

.

.

It isn’t until a few days later that he sees her again; Sakura finds him in the back of the cafeteria room at his usual table.

“Gotta say, I’m _really_ surprised that you didn’t end up reporting me,” she tells him as he sits busied with reading his favorite book, chopsticks playing with the last of his grilled fish.

Sasuke nearly startles out of his chair. “What?” 

His eyes widen fractionally when he realizes who he sees, and Sakura smiles in response, dropping down in the spot across from him.

“It’s not like I would have gotten in any new trouble anyway,” she goes on, leaning to casually rest her chin upon one hand. “But it’s nice to avoid it when I can since this school’s pretty great. Not like I ever really attend class much, but the people are pretty dop—Hey, I know that book!”

More out of instinct than anything else, Sasuke jerks his novel to himself when this girl he barely knows moves to snatch at it. His mouth twists into a frown when she simply laughs in response.

“Why are you even talking to me?” he asks, putting away his precious literature. “It’s not like you owe me anything.”

Sakura looks at him funny. “You don’t get many people thanking you, do you? Do you even have any friends?”

Giving her a bland look, Sasuke moves to get up, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he cleans up after himself. “You didn’t thank me,” he points out as he tries to flee, but Sakura follows after him all the same.

“I was _about_ to,” she argues, and elbows his side as old friends would. “Or I would have earlier, if you hadn’t started acting rude.”

Jolted by her sheer friendliness of the gesture, Sasuke isn’t sure whether he should be amazed or unsettled that she is acting so damn familiar. It renders him speechless.

“Thanks, though,” she says, finally, and looks up at him with the prettiest smile he’s seen from her yet. For such an obvious delinquent, she is remarkably stunning in ways he never thought this type of girl could be. “I really do appreciate it. No one’s ever really done that kind of thing for me before—not since I was a kid, anyhow.”

Lips mulling, Sasuke only looks away, readjusting the strap of his bag. “Yeah. It’s fine, I guess,” he mutters, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

He wonders if Sakura has a habit of making everything so personal.

A silence reigns over them for a moment, not quite comfortable but not quite _not_ , and Sasuke’s heart races a little. Why is she still _here_?

“Hey, would you ever want to hang out?” she inquires, then, taking him completely off guard.

Pausing in his steps, Sasuke turns and looks at her. “Hang out?”

“Yeah,” she says, as she pauses, too. She cocks her head _(adorably)_ at him. “Hang out.”

Sasuke’s mouth parts and closes several times. Who _is_ she? he asks himself, and narrows his eyes.

“You don’t even know me,” he tells her, as he looks away and starts to walk again. He moves more briskly now.

But Sakura follows after him _again_ , giving him that melodious laugh once more. “That’s kind of the point of hanging out, isn’t it?” she teases, and his heart stutters.

Before he can even come up with anything to reply, however, the sound of a phone starts to ring, crying out obnoxious reminders of, “Time to go! Time to go!”

Smile instantly fading, Sakura curses, digging out the cell from her pocket as she frowns. “Well, looks like I gotta run,” she announces as she turns off the annoying alarm. Still, those eyes of hers crinkle as she looks up at him, reaching to playfully snap at his backpack strap. “Thanks again, Mr. Grump!”

Paying no mind to the doubtlessly harmless jibe, Sasuke watches her bolt away into the hallway, eyes wide, before he can’t help but notice that she’s heading out towards exit doors leading out of the school.

“Where are you going?” he calls after her, taking a step forward, forehead wrinkling. “Classes are starting soo—”

“I’ve got something more important!” Sakura yells back, smiling as she waves him goodbye. “See ya!”

Sasuke’s jaw loosens. His brows knit together.

What a weird girl, he muses, as he turns to make his way to his Advanced Science class.

.

.

She takes him by surprise again the following afternoon, as the school day is nearing its end.

“Mr. Grump!” she exclaims, nearly scaring him out of his skin. She taps his left shoulder quickly, but when he looks there, he hears her giggle at his right.

Sasuke’s neck warms. “What do you want now?” he mumbles, eyes darting away as quickly as he meets hers. She’s so childish.

“Boo! Are you still rude?” she returns, crossing her arms over her chest. But she keeps smiling. “Come on now, I thought we were starting to become good friends!”

Sasuke makes a face. “What?”

She dismisses him with a wave. “Anyway—and here I thought I had you all figured out, but you prove me wrong! I never thought you’d skipped a class in your life.”

That makes him stop. “What are you even—I’m not _skipping class_ ,” he retorts, greatly offended. “I have a free period right now.” Eyes all but narrowed into a glare, Sasuke looks her up and down, frowning all the more. “But then again, maybe you’d know those actually existed if you bothered actually going to school,” he mutters.

When he shifts to return the way he’s come from, however, he feels something yank him back with enough intensity to stagger him. Sasuke stumbles to regain his balance.

“What the—”

“Let’s get something straight,” Sakura starts, as she grabs him by his collar and shoves him back against a nearby locker. It shocks him enough that he doesn’t quite notice how his bag slips and topples to the ground. “Your little attitude and being quick to judge thing? Kind of pissing me off right now. But my guess is you’re not really used to dealing with people, and to be honest that’s the only reason why I haven’t punched you yet.”

Sasuke keeps glaring.

“You don’t know anything about me,” she goes on, strong in all the right ways. “And I don’t know anything about you, other than the fact that you’re kind of an entitled prick. In fact, I don’t even know your name. Point is—neither of us know shit about what each other’s lives are like. Our living situations. Or family situations. Or _money_ situations. So you don’t get to judge me like that when I’ve been nothing but nice to you, okay?”

Mouth straightening, Sasuke only stares, and says nothing; she’s not wrong. He can’t help the feeling of guilt that seeps into his stomach.

For a moment, they only look at each other. Not quite glowering, but not quite relenting either.

Then, Sasuke exhales a slow breath, and lets himself relax. “It’s Sasuke,” he says, quiet. “Uchiha Sasuke.”

Sakura’s pretty green eyes brighten, crinkling with contentment. Sweetly, and so earnestly, she beams at him, smoothing down the collar of his shirt with a surprisingly gentle touch. “There,” she says, soft. “Nice to meet you, Sasuke-kun.”

His heart only warms.

.

.

This is what he learns about Sakura over the course of the next few weeks: she has been to seven schools in the past four years, two of which she’d gotten expelled from _(one for beating the daylights out of a boy who grabbed her ass without consent)_. She works three jobs to help her parents pay rent and her mother’s medical bills _(she has kidney cancer)_ , one of which demands her availability in the daytime—which was the reason he didn’t often see her in school. She’s an aspiring artist, who once had dreams about becoming a doctor… but forced to let go, when the circumstances told her to.

She is both free and trapped, living her life to the fullest she can manage; always laughing, always smiling—always trying to make the best of it all.

She is, Sasuke thinks, the strongest woman he’s ever met.

.

.

“You’re telling me that you spent your entire weekend on a computer?” Sakura echoes, brows flying up high. “You’re kidding, right? Sasuke-kun, tell me that isn’t true!”

When Sasuke simply shrugs, she gapes at him and gives him a shove, her unbelievably green eyes narrowing.

“You—how?!” she cries, ignoring his protest as she pushes at him again. “You stupid idiot! I told you to forget your studies for once and have fun—”

“I did,” he retorts, shuffling away to put some needed distance between them. He swears one day she is going to bruise him. “My father never allowed me to play video games a lot. Only on weekends, and never more than once a month—it’ll be twice already this May, and we’re barely a week in.”

Sakura’s face softens at this, in the way it always does at the mention of his parents—but Sasuke isn’t exactly sure he’s in a mood to get emotional on a battered picnic table in the back of her shitty little fast food job, so he flicks her ugly red hat off to annoy her.

It works; Sakura complains loudly, reaches for her lost hat, and hits him with it. Sasuke puts up his hands in surrender, and barely manages not to smirk.

“Well I meant for you to get out of your house and do something, Sasuke-kun!” she goes on to tell him, glaring. “Not contribute to your ever-growing habit of becoming a hermit!”

He rolls his eyes in return. “I am not a hermit, Sakura.”

“I said _ever-growing habit_ , Sasuke-kun—you’re not a full-blown hermit yet, but you best hope I’m not too late to save your sorry ass.”

Sasuke gives her a flat look. “I don’t know why I’m friends with you. Your flair for drama is astonishing.”

She snorts a laugh. “Says the guy whose only other friend is _Naruto Uzumaki_.”

His mouth parts in reply, and then snaps shut, lips mulling together. He can’t really argue against that.

Sakura smiles at him, then looks away, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “It’s nice to hear you say it, you know.”

“Say what?”

“That I’m your friend.”

Sasuke feels his cheeks heat up. He glances away from her, focusing on the ragged table beneath them. He starts picking at the broken slabs. “Yeah, well you basically forced me to when you slammed me against those lockers.”

Sakura bursts into laughter, the sound so wholehearted that it makes his heart skip a beat.

“Is that what you’ve been telling yourself these past few months, Sasuke-kun?” she asks, grinning.

She looks so pretty, he can’t help thinking.

But instead of replying, Sasuke questions back, “Isn’t your lunch break over? I feel like it’s been more than half an hour since we’ve been sitting here.”

Eyes widening, Sakura scrambles to look at her phone before she exclaims, “Shit!” and runs off to work once more.

A smile tips to his mouth. He wonders if he’s falling for her.

.

.

“Will you ever bring home that girl you’re always hanging around with, little brother?” Itachi asks one evening, as he is bringing their late dinner to the table.

Sasuke nearly chokes on his water.

“Should I have asked more delicately?” his brother goes on, smiling lightly as he takes a seat and watches him hack coughs for a good minute. “I didn’t mean to make you feel cornered.”

“She’s—She’s not my girlfriend,” Sasuke rasps, once he finally manages to catch himself again, heart pounding away.

Itachi smiles wider. “I never said she was, little brother.”

“No, but I know you were thinking it,” Sasuke growls, feeling his face flush more deeply. He reaches to plate himself some oyakodon, trying to ignore the meddling of his only immediate relative left. “It’s none of your business, so stay out of it.”

“Now, now, Sasuke, don’t be rude,” Itachi chides, shaking his head as he plates his own food. “This is the first friend you’ve made since Mother and Father died four years ago—I’m only interested in meeting who my little brother finally considered worthy of his company.”

“You make it sound like I’m overtly picky,” Sasuke mutters, beginning to eat.

“You _are_ picky, little brother,” Itachi replies, but smiles all the same.

Sasuke rolls his eyes in return, and they eat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the radio playing faintly in the background. A sappy romance song is on, and though it kills him to admit it, Sasuke thinks of Sakura.

“Friend or more, Sasuke, I’d still like to meet her,” he hears Itachi say then, as he is losing himself in pathetically tender thoughts.

Sasuke swallows, then exhales a slow breath, nodding ever so hesitantly. “I’ll ask,” he says, and it is all he can manage to promise.

.

.

“He wants to meet me?” she says when he finally manages to gather himself to ask her around a week later. They’re hanging out under a fairly busy city bridge, now. “Really? Why?”

Sasuke shrugs, watching Sakura lay on a thick layer of black paint. Outlining what he thinks might be an animal, today. “Because I don’t make friends easy.”

Turning to him, Sakura’s features shift strangely under her paint mask. Sasuke quickly realizes that she is trying very hard not to laugh.

“No, _really_?” she inquires, feigning surprise.

The act doesn’t last very long, though, because she is back to making that face again near immediately after.

He feels his eyes narrow in return. “Sakura,” he warns.

But this only serves to heighten her amusement; Sakura begins to giggle, and then coughs and clears her throat to hide its evidence. “I mean, Sasuke-kun… I never would have guessed. You’re so charming and approachable.”

It takes everything in him not to growl. “ _Sakura_.”

A laugh finally spills from her mouth, free and unrestrained. “Oh relax, Sasuke-kun,” she affectionately berates, eyes crinkling in that way they always do when she smiles that beautiful smile.

But Sasuke doesn’t get to admire the sight more as she turns back to the wall to continue her work of art.

_(it no longer feels right to call it vandalism, if he’s honest with himself—her pieces are too full of life and stories to tell.)_

“But yeah, sure. Whatever, I guess,” she says, shrugging. “I’ll meet your brother.”

Yet there is something inside her voice that makes him smile, despite her casual voice. A little lilt to her tone that tells that maybe she’s excited, or honored, or utterly in awe of this opportunity—

It sends butterflies fluttering to his stomach.

“Hey Sasuke-kun,” she calls, then, drawing him from his thoughts.

He blinks. “Hm?”

“Have you ever dated anyone?”

Eyes widening, Sasuke reels back so hard he almost feels dizzy; out of anything she could have asked, this had been one of the last things on his mind. “What?”

Sakura hums, as though having expected he might react like this. “Dating, Sasuke-kun. Have you ever gone out with anyone? Had any girlfriends?”

His eyes are still wide. “What are you—I don’t—”

His words escape him, and Sasuke snaps his mouth shut. Takes a moment to pause, breathe. Take everything in.

He swallows and breathes out quietly when he finds himself again. “I don’t… date,” he manages to say, finally.

That has her shifting to face him once more, brows raised and green eyes wide with genuine surprise, this time. “You don’t? Why not?”

There is something in the tone of her voice that makes the back of his neck heat up. Sasuke looks away, and shrugs. “Never wanted to,” he explains, honest. His hand moves to rub his hot nape. “And I don’t have time right now, anyway. My education is more important than finding some girlfriend that won’t last… or that I’ll leave behind.”

There is some guilt to admitting that, but it is the truth—or what he believes, anyhow. High school romances are not built to last.

Sakura’s pretty, pretty eyes seem to lessen a bit, if only for a fraction of a moment. Sasuke’s not sure if he’s imagined it, especially as she shrugs and smiles at him in the moment after, beaming and just as wide as ever.

“Oh,” she responds, giggling lightly. “What a shame.”

Sasuke tries not to ponder on what that meant.

. 

.

She comes over for dinner at his place the next evening, finally, and it goes astoundingly well. Itachi seems to adore Sakura from the moment Sasuke takes her to the kitchen to introduce them, marveling at the color of her hair before she even so much has the time to open her mouth and say hi.

_(“such a gorgeous color… and it looks so real. i mean, sweetheart, you can’t tell me you do this by yourself?”)_

The two get along almost frighteningly easily, and for the remainder of the night, Sasuke simply finds himself watching as they chatter away about anything at all, feeling both pleased and accomplished—but also something of a third wheel.

He thinks Sakura might have suspected as much, judging by the sweet, apologetic smiles she sometimes spared him if she glanced his way.

Sasuke begins to wonder why he ever doubted at all, when it came to his brother liking her. 

Itachi lets him know as much when Sakura excuses herself from their table after asking where their bathroom is.

“She’s an unbelievably smart and charming girl, Sasuke. I’m a little mad you didn’t bring her here earlier. Why didn’t you?”

Never looking up from his food, Sasuke frowns and plays around with some rice he’s not hungry for, fighting the urge to clear his throat. “She’s… not like me,” he settles on saying a full minute later, eyes meeting his brother’s again.

Itachi merely shakes his head at him, and smiles. “I never wanted you to find friends like you,” he states. His gaze softens. “I know she’s a bit of a rebel, but sometimes I think that’s exactly what you need to get you out of your shell, little brother. You’ve been so secluded since Mother and Father…”

But Itachi’s face changes here, and he never finishes what he was saying, eyes lessening to something much sadder. Sasuke swallows, and looks down too; he knows Itachi struggles with raising him sometimes, always worrying about his wellbeing as he wonders if he did anything wrong. It makes Sasuke feel ashamed sometimes—he knows how hard Itachi tries.

“Oh well,” his brother says then, and it has him glancing up again, finding him straightened and beaming brightly again, as he always does. “I’m just trying to say that I’ve been worrying less about you since you met her, Sasuke. You’ve changed quite a bit.”

The back of his neck warms, and Sasuke glances down once more, playing with the rice he still doesn’t want to eat. It isn’t exactly surprising to hear, but it still isn’t easy when he is struggling to come to terms with the fact he is falling in love with a girl he might soon need to leave behind.

.

.

“Thanks for saving me back there,” she tells him when he walks her to his front door after the night is over. The smile she gives him is so brilliant it almost hurts to see. “You really have a knack for it, huh?”

Sasuke shakes his head, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “It’s fine. Not everyone knows what to do with their lives after high school. Itachi took a gap year himself, after he graduated.”

“He did?” Sakura giggled. “I wouldn’t have thought. He seems so put together.”

Sasuke shrugs. “He is now,” he says. He pauses. “And so will you, Sakura. Eventually.”

Something in her eyes flashes; like pain, or worry, or even hope too many times built to be torn down again.

_(—because it’s all she’s ever known.)_

“You really think so, Sasuke-kun?”

He stares at her, black eyes so calm, soft. Unwavering in his beliefs. “Of course I do,” he murmurs, reaching to pat her hair down with affection.

Giggling once more, Sakura smiles at him, as warmly as she ever has, tugging his hand out of her hair before he decides to mess with it. His heart stutters frantically when she cradles it between both of her own, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “It really means a lot.”

She kisses his cheek before finally leaving for home.

.

.

Sasuke dreads graduation with every day that it approaches—something he never thought would happen, before.

Every day that passes is a day closer to leaving this terrible town, to moving on to things that are better and less tainted with the tragedies of his past. To finally allow him to pursue his dreams as a criminal justice lawyer, and seek justice for all the others who have had to bear losses against this system that simply doesn’t care enough.

But every day that passes is also a day closer to leaving Sakura, and Sasuke wants anything but that.

.

.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Sakura asks him, on the eve of the end of everything.

She’s taken him to some kind of little meadow, today. There are no walls for her to paint anywhere nearby.

_(and more than anything, for a reason he can’t explain, he wishes there were—wishes he could see her paint one last time. bring life to these lifeless walls that he never thought twice about before he met her.)_

Sasuke closes his eyes. “No. Not really,” he answers, and he’s not lying. “Just… disappointed.”

“Mr. Grump, nerd of the century who thinks he’s better than anyone in this town and can’t wait to get out of it, is getting cold feet for his own graduation day? I think I’m dreaming,” she teases, but there’s less heart in it than usual.

She’s been dreading this day, too, Sasuke realizes. It makes his throat tighten.

He sits up, and runs his fingers through his hair. Sometimes he wishes he never fell in love, never fell for this stupidly amazing delinquent who turned his world upside down; with her dumb pink hair that he always wants to run his hands through, and those gorgeous, gorgeous green eyes he always loses himself to. And that heart—oh, that heart. How could anyone be so kind and fierce all at once?

Swallowing, Sasuke sighs, listening to the sounds of Sakura shuffling beside him. Sitting up as well.

They don’t speak for a while.

“Hey, Sasuke-kun,” she calls, when a long, long moment has passed. Her voice is so quiet, so tentative. Unlike her. “Can I do something? Where it doesn’t have to mean anything?”

Curious, Sasuke turns to look at her, brows furrowing slightly. “…Like what?”

But Sakura doesn’t answer. She smiles, so gently, and hesitates only for a few seconds. And then she moves, slowly, giving him ample time to stop her, push her back; she straddles herself over his lap, carefully puts her hands to his shoulders. And then, cups his face with all the care in the world.

Sasuke feels like he is dreaming, hallucinating. Heart pounding, eyes wide, feeling her warm weight against him. Feeling those small fingers cautiously holding his face.

“Can I?” she whispers, as she gives him this look that tears him apart.

High school romances are never built to last, but at least, maybe, Sasuke can allow himself this, he thinks as he gives an almost imperceptible nod.

_(and despite what she says, this will always mean everything to him.)_

Sakura kisses him, then, and it’s sweet, and slow, and soft. Everything he ever wanted, and everything that _hurts_ —so much he can’t help but to let his brows furrow, can’t help but feel his heart lurch. Can’t help but to reach and hold her warm, warm hips, trying to anchor himself to something. He doesn’t know what possesses him to pull her back when she breaks away from him, a small, muttered, “no,” falling from his lips before he kisses her again. There is less grace in the way he moves, more bumping noses and clashing teeth, but Sakura’s breath hitches and she kisses him back anyway, guiding him into something more proper, enjoyable. _Hungry_.

They’re a mess of hot, panting gasps and flushed faces when they pull back, hands twisted into each other clothes and gazes locked in a whirlwind of different feelings.

Sasuke doesn’t know what to do now. But he doesn’t want to pull away.

Sakura doesn’t intent to either, he finds.

“Are you a virgin?” she asks, so quietly, running her fingers carefully over his jaw once more.

Sasuke can only blush deeply, heart racing faster. With some heavy embarrassment, he stutters, “That’s—What does that even matter?”

But Sakura doesn’t relent with her patience. “Are you?”

His mouth parts, and then closes. Sasuke looks away, burning everywhere.

She gently coaxes him back into looking her way, the sweetest smile curling to her lips.

And then, she says, “Would you like not to be, Sasuke-kun?”

For a long while, Sasuke does nothing but stare at her; cheeks and tips of his ears still red, heartbeat still thundering away, not even quite sure he’s breathing anymore.

Somehow, he manages to say yes.

.

.

She shows him how to make love that night in the back of the pickup truck she borrowed from her father earlier that day; shows him how to make her moan, how to make her sigh. How to make her come apart in his arms. He is an eager study, as he’s always been, and it takes some time to learn the right ways to move, to touch—but time is all they have tonight, Sakura tells him, so it’s okay.

She shows him how to give himself to another person, entirely and wholly, and how it feels to have them do the same; shows him how to lose himself to a moment that is nothing but theirs.

There is such emotion that surrounds them when it’s over that Sasuke can hardly be surprised when she murmurs that she loves him.

_(he thinks he’s known for a while, now. thinks she might have, too.)_

So as he runs his hand through her damp, perfect pink hair, cradling her sweat slicked body to his own, Sasuke murmurs the same three words and promises himself he’ll do everything to make this last.


End file.
